


Coz We're A Long Way From Home

by dantylions



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, House of Hades Spoilers, M/M, Post-Canon, all of the Nico feels, and just Nico in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantylions/pseuds/dantylions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico di Angelo isn't expecting a gold medal for surviving Tartarus, but he'd still like a pat on the back and a 'hey welcome home'. Except when Percy Jackson does it (and in record time too!), everyone praises him for his courage and bravery. Now Nico is alone and bitter as everyone around him continues on with their life.</p><p>However as Nico tries to ignore Percy despite the other's attempt to strike up a friendship, the son of Hades realises that maybe it wasn't as easy for Percy as he originally thought, that Tartarus can break even the bravest of people. It doesn't help either that no matter how much he tries to hate him and his perfect relationship with Annabeth, his stomach still trembles with butterflies around the boy who smells like the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. whatever!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write Percy/Nico for a century and so I did and now I'm happy. Just a heads up, please forgive me, I don't know why I decided writing a multi-chapter fic would be a good idea but too late, just know that I am slow and I have school and work. 
> 
> Anyway ONWARDS! Here's just a taste before I really start writing chapter 1.
> 
> P.S. It's unbeta'd so sorry for weird mistakes etc etc. Point them out if it pleases you! I welcome criticism.

Nico had the world under control. Not literally under control but like, he was confident and he understood his self-worth so well that the world could never topple him, never shock him or throw a curveball that had him balking at the batter’s box. He was king and a powerful demigod and his life was awesome.

Sorry, jokes over! If one were to describe Nico di Angelo's life, it would be a Greek tragedy. Dead mom, dead sister, abandoned by dad and shunned everywhere he went; he was the epitome of unhappiness. He wished he was writing his own play, because he was tired of walking around blindfolded, for once he wanted to take control. But the Fates were funny like that, especially when his world revolved completely and utterly around one particular son of the sea God. And Percy was never in control. He was the ocean and a storm and an earthquake, all of those things that could not be tamed. They were wild, powerful and they spun the son of Hades in a whirlwind of emotions.

So Nico was out of control.

He was spiralling. 

And he hated it.

/--/--/

Camp Half-Blood: he wouldn't exactly call it home, just like he wouldn't exactly call the Underworld home either. That place was too dark and dead, quite literally, with Hades owning the title ‘World’s Busiest and Absent Dad’ and his step-mother, Persephone, who would like nothing more than to ‘accidentally’ push Nico into the river of Lethe or Styx or which ever of the many rivers they had running in the Underworld. But Nico felt more at home there then he did at camp. Maybe because he was a child of Hades and being amongst the dead felt all right, which was sort of creepy he’ll admit. Put him amongst the living and Nico felt out of place. He was the closest link to the dead and that made everyone uncomfortable; they didn't like to touch or talk to him for very long. In turn, he didn't like being around them for very long either. Jeez, living people.

Whenever he visited during the summer, he was isolated in Cabin 13 (because life was ironic.) He joined practice and ate dinner but friends? Yeah, he didn't have any of those and they became less apparent when he returned from Tartarus barely alive and screaming into his pillow every night because the terror was too much, too real. When people know you've survived a place no mortal or demi-god or even the immortal gods could venture (…maybe, not many of them are too keen to test out their 'immortality') it took place as a big fat sign on your forehead that said ‘Beware! This kid isn't normal!’ and this was Nico di Angelo, who walked hand in hand with not-normal, because being a kid of Hades and not being normal were part of the job description. But then you had heroes like Percy Jackson.

That’s one thing Nico’s learned in life: if your name was Percy Jackson, you got to stand first place on the pedestal. He returned from Tartarus like the grand hero he was: so great, the Almighty Percy, so brave. Never mind that Nico had been there and done that.

But you know what, who cared about Nico di Angelo? Percy was the real hero, so, whatever.

Whatever! 


	2. I'm not alone, it's just a side effect, I swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I just- I apologise for my attempts at being funny. I try okay. I try. Does this even have a plot? I DON'T KNOW. Sorry. 
> 
> Who knows where this road is going?!
> 
> EDIT: I've updated this chapter, changed some things here and there. La dee di.

The cool crisp of morning air, just before the sun broke from dawn, filled his lungs as he drew in deep, long breaths. Nico relished in the coolness before summer decided it was time to take its place in the sky and the heat started to build up, slowly but surely. It was slightly overcast with fluffy grey clouds closing in on the magical border protecting Camp Half-Blood but it didn’t invade any further, leaving a wide perfect circle of clear blue sky around the area. He resented it a bit as it never rained, stormed or snowed. Bad weather just bypassed, clouds dividing over their little area near the sea before they re-joined on the other side. 

It was quiet, none of the campers had risen, and it slowed his heartbeat into a soft lull of rhythm. When you have fought for your life countless of times and been at the brink of death even more so, you began to appreciate the hard work your heart does. Each contraction filled the blood with oxygen and when it pumped, it forced all the blood through an artery the width of a finger, bringing it all back again to repeat the process. All of this in just one second. So Nico listened to his heart and was in that moment thankful to still be alive, even though last summer he almost died. Twice or maybe three times.

He shuddered slightly as the sun rose higher and poured warmth onto his skin, contrasting with the coolness from before. One by one, cabin doors finally began to open and Nico watched with vague interest as people ambled out, still dressed in pyjamas and bed hair. He noticed out of the corner of his eye a certain curly blonde slipping out from Cabin Three before hurriedly joining her brothers and sisters, feigning ignorance as the others looked at her. Nico discarded the thought, pretending not to care, though his stomach twisted painfully. Stretching from his perch on top of the Hades cabin, he waited a little longer as campers made their way to the bathrooms before climbing down, dressed in black and ready for a day of being ignored, hard work that it was.

"Nico! What were you doing up there?" Jason Grace's voice startled Nico, briefly reminding him that Jason had moved to Camp Half-Blood only two days ago. Camp Jupiter was his home but as teenagers do, they grow up and move on.

"I was…sun baking?" Nico tried, titling his head with a tiny smile on his face. Out of all the people Nico knew, Jason was the person he felt the closet to, beside his half sister Hazel. Their journey to the House of Hades had been difficult to say the least and for Nico, it was hell, even more hellish than Tartarus. Hellish because he had to reveal the biggest secret of his life; the one that he swore he would take to the grave. It was suffice to say that Nico would have preferred another trip into Tartarus instead of telling Jason Grace that he…that he…liked...a certain demigod who smelled like the sea with eyes that matched the green of the ocean.

Yeah, so he was friends with Jason, but not because he agreed willingly, more like a certain God of Love had made him (and oh how Nico hated that god).

"Yes because we all know you need a good tan." Jason laughed, waving his hand in the direction of Nico's pale complexion.

"I'm offended! It's just a side effect of being the son of Hades, leave me alone." Nico shoved his shoulder, but he was tiny -- and even then Nico was starting to fill out slightly -- in comparison to Jason, who was blessed with the height of 6'1 and a muscly build. Jason barely budged.

"Yeah, yeah, comes with the territory. I get it. Son of Zeus, remember?" He paused. "I'm just one huge side effect."

Nico just looked at him as if he couldn't actually believe Jason had said that. "Really? That wasn't even funny."

Jason just shrugged helplessly in a way that said 'I tried'. At the moment, Jason caught sight of Piper coming out of her cabin, short brown hair messy but stylish in a way only the children of Aphrodite could pull off, and he gravitated towards her, before catching himself and throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder. Nico shrugged, waving him off, knowing that love made people do silly things. He himself was a prime example of that. He threw himself into Tartarus for love and look where that had gotten him? Nowhere. Still breathing, still living, but an empty shell watching as the boy he loved continued in his oblivion.

Jason had gone to Piper and Nico realised he was alone again. 

It didn't matter though; he knew that while Jason was one of his closest friends, when it came to Piper, Jason momentarily forgot the things around him. Again, it was probably just a side effect of being a child of the goddess of love; they could definitely make you forget yourself. Despite him saying that, it didn't comfort his heart in the least, which felt a little hollow as Nico made his way to the Mess Hall to settle his rumbling stomach.

 /--/--/

When sword practice came around, Nico, amongst embarrassment and disbelief, had been knocked down half a dozen times due to his gaze following a certain black haired boy. Nico considered himself on par with two other demigods of the Big Three; he had practiced with the ghost of Achilles -- and everyone knew that he was the greatest hero that ever lived -- but today had ended in multiple defeats.

Stumbling to his feet for the seventh time, he dusted himself down and promptly decided that there was no way he could focus when Percy was in approximate range. It was then that Percy looked over, throwing Nico a grin before bounding over, green eyes squinted because of his smile.

"Throwing in the towel already Nico?" He reached out his hand to clamp Nico on the back, but Nico used to dodging physical contact, shimmied away, leaving Percy's hand hanging awkwardly. He coughed slightly and lowered it before smiling at Nico again. The son of Hades was ashamed, but there was no way in Zeus' underpants -- sorry Lord Zeus -- that he was going to let Percy touch him. It would hurt more than drinking from the river of Phlegethon and he'd been there and done that. And also because if Percy touch him, Nico's bodily functions would set off an alarm bell, turning him red from face to chest with jittery hands and stuttering every time he opened his mouth. That would be mortifying enough as it is. 

"Yeah well, woke up on the wrong side of the bed Jackson." Nico mumbled, avoiding Percy's sea green eyes.

"We better get you on the right side then. Come on, duel me. It will be like old times." Nico glared at him briefly. "You know, when you use to try and stab me all the time?" 

Nico groaned, hoping that he'd forget his ten-year-old self, and took up his Stygian iron sword reluctantly. "Don't regret this Jackson."

"Percy, my name's Percy, Nico. Say it with me." He looked at him pointedly, sarcasm masking his very handsome features and Nico felt his gut twist slightly.

This was ultimately a bad idea. People always said that bringing the children of the Big Three together always caused trouble. Making them practice sword fighting together? Even more of a bad idea. Whenever their powers collided it would be intensely powerful, enough to make continents move, but that's where the trouble was. Like one time, Jason and Percy were duelling it out, using everything in their arsenal: swords, water, wind, hurricanes and lightning, you name it. Basically the camp ended up flooding and trembling with minor earthquakes every twenty seconds. Chiron quickly put an end to that one and then banned any of the children of the Three from using their powers in practice. But it was always hard to control it when they were going full out, even with only swords.

Percy uncapped Riptide, giving it a good twirl before readying himself into his stance. Nico did the same and they weighed each other up, deciding who might make the first move. Nico struck first, using his height and lower centre of gravity to sweep up with his blade and forcing Percy to stumble backwards. But the other was quick to respond, swinging his sword to aim at Nico's ribs before he parried it last second. Before they could go any further, alarmed shouts stopped them and they turned as Chiron hurried over, a look of disapproval on his face. Nico smirked, gave one look at Percy and then slipped into the shadows, leaving him to fend for himself. Sometimes being the son of Hades had its advantages. And the look on Percy's face was sort of worth it.

He materialised in his cabin, muscles feeling sore and bruised. He sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed; he hadn't realised but his hands were shaking violently and he clenched them tight to stop the tremors. Despite feeling natural with Percy just then, Nico had already deteriorated from the interaction. Maybe it was just the adrenalin running through his veins, but he was shivering and his knees felt weak. It made him feel pathetic that he couldn't control his own emotions; it took one word from the son of Poseidon to shake him and leave him melting all at once. The children of Hades' always had strong emotions, but this was too much. He looked at the gloom in his cabin. Maybe it was time to leave again. Perhaps he had overstayed his welcome at Camp Half-Blood and it was time to move on, hike it back into the Underworld or travel the world instead. He had distant memories of a foreign country and a beautiful woman with dark curly hair, just like his, speaking to him in Italian. Then Nico remembered his promise to Jason. A whole summer, that's what he promised and Nico hated breaking promises, especially after seeing Percy's face the time he sold him out to his dad, just so he could receive a few words he hadn't heard since he was a child. And how could he possibly have remembered that? But he did, as if it is part of his soul and stuck to him until it defined him.

He decided that summer was a stupid season.

 /--/--/

Around the burning campfire, demigods sung their corny campfire songs, with of course Apollo's children leading a new rendition of 'Hero' by some singer called…Maria Carrie? Nico didn't know, he was born just before the mid 1900s and was still trying to catch up on over seventy years of knowledge. The flames spiralled high into the night sky, flickering bright colours that reflected everyone's mood: pinks and yellows and neon oranges. Nico was reluctantly wedged between Jason and Leo and thankfully not next to Percy, who was on the other side of Leo. Usually he would have avoided these gatherings, but Jason had forced him into what he said was 'much needed company'; however all Nico wanted to do was evaporate into thin air and sit in his dark room instead of watching Percy kiss Annabeth amongst a smattering of oohs and aahs and whistling. It made him feel nauseous. He wished he could hate Annabeth but it was impossible; she was smart, kind, beautiful and would always find time to include Nico in conversations like they were old friends. He guessed they were, as he knew her since he was ten, but that didn't make him feel better. Instead it made him avert his eyes, suddenly feeling guilty that no matter how kindly she treated Nico; he could only look at her with jealously.

Jason looked over, concern in his eyes. He mouthed, 'I'm sorry'; however Nico waved it off. It didn't matter, did it? He was just Nico, always lonely and bitter. It was just another side effect of being the son of Hades. 

After the last embers died down and the amphitheatre had cleared out, with shadows taking the place of the campers, Nico finally made his was make to Cabin Thirteen. As he entered the semi circle, or more like an oval with the new addition of cabins, he noticed Jason leaning against the side of his cabin that Nico had proudly designed himself. Jason spotted him straight away so Nico knew that escape wasn't an option.

"Hey, I'm really sorry I forced you into sitting with us tonight. I know it wasn't exactly an ideal situation for you." Jason said sheepishly, his hand mussing up his short hair.

"It's okay, it doesn't matter. I'm use to it." Nico shrugged.

Jason lowered his arm, a serious look coming over his face. "Nico, it's not okay. Don't say that it doesn't matter because I'm your friend and it matters to me! ...I'm sorry I forced you to hang with us when I knew you didn't want to see them; it was a bad misjudgment on my part. I didn't think about how it would make you feel." He looked at Nico and then to the sky. "Are you okay Nico? I know, stupid to ask, but...I know you get nightmares still, about Tartarus." 

Nico tensed up, his face quickly became guarded. "No I don't. I'm fine. Stop being so nosy, it's annoying me."

A brief flicker of hurt passed Jason's face and he opened his mouth as if to continue, but he sighed and nodded. "I- okay, sorry. Just...you can talk to me okay? No, seriously." Nico instantly felt bad for pushing him away. But it wasn't his business, he only knew because Cupid made it his business.

They were silent for a few moments before Jason spoke up again. "Um...I forgot to mention, but I've heard from Piper who heard from Annabeth that Percy isn't doing too well. Not as well as you think he is anyway." 

"What?"

Jason shrugged. "Look he hasn't told me anything, but based on what Piper told me and, well, just by looking at Percy, I can see there is something up. He's different."

Nico found that hard to believe. Wasn't he all over Annabeth only a few hours ago, laughing and smiling? Sure, there were times when Nico noticed him brooding and in deep thought but heck, he was eighteen this year and Nico was sure that Percy had other things to be worrying about other than monsters and saving the world. Jason bid him goodnight, patting him on the shoulder and leaving for his own cabin.

Inside it was dark and gloomy, only illuminated by Greek fire that casted a green light over Nico's skin as he wandered over to the bathroom, ready to drop dead from exhaustion. He turned the tap on and let the water run has he braced himself on the basin. He didn't want to think about it anymore. It was tiring; Percy, Annabeth, Jason and Tartarus. All these useless emotions kept piling up and up until Nico thought he would burst.

"Toss it all away." He chanted to himself, promptly splashing ice-cold water on his face and changing into his pyjamas.

He prayed to Hypnos that his sleep would be dreamless tonight, but he knew that a demigod's rest rarely was.

/--/--/ 

_He found himself back in Tartarus, the landscape black and dry and sharp. Unforgiving. The air was tinted red and each draw of breath sent pain into his lungs. The ground cracked underneath Nico's feet as he slowly stumbled forward, the descent he had once travelled feeling like only yesterday. Though he was dreaming, Nico was fully aware where his destination would be, the dream following the exact same pattern as the ones that came before. He was travelling downwards and that only meant once place: The Doors of Death. This time, he wasn't scared. Having trekked the same path countless of times, he knew what would happen like watching a movie dozens of times, memorising each line and each action. Soon he would cross an Empousai and he would fight, receiving a wound to his shoulder that would heal once he drank from the river Phlegethon, its fire burning the linings of his throat and stomach. The journey would take what seemed hours of no stopping; only falling and fire and ash. At the end, he would arrive at the Doors of Death and be captured and would relive the torture._

_However this time Nico felt different. The path was the same and the monsters the same but the landscape continued to stretch for eons, never changing. He felt confused and alarmed because it was different. The scenery eventually fell away into a steep decline of craggily black rocks, which platooned out into another long stretch of landscape, except the ground was harsher and filled with dead things, bleach white bones which shouldn’t have existed because monsters evaporated into dust. There was now a tightness gripping Nico’s heart as he continued to walk, one step in front of the other, except now each one was filled with trepidation. He kept looking over his shoulder, feeling eyes on the back of his skull but when he turned, no one was there, just air and empty space. So he kept walking though the hairs on his neck and arms stood straight._

_When it felt like he’d been walking for hours, the scenery changed again; the air turning a darker red like blood and the ground under his feet morphed until it was soft, covered in blue and red lines that pulsated very slightly. Nico could feel it, slower than his own, but sure enough, it moved like a heartbeat. As he was linked with the dead, he was tuned to the beating of a heart and he knew without a doubt that this was the heart of Tartarus. It filled him with horror, his knees shook and more than anything he wished he could fly, to get off the ground- no the heart. He looked up and in front of him was a door, deeper than black, if that was even possible and taller than Percy’s half Cyclops brother. It wasn’t the Doors of Death though. Confused, he stumbled forward, sword in hand but his heart was thumping erratically and a deep boom was echoing in the distance._

_Boom…Boom…Boom…_

_Nico reached for the handle and twisted but it didn’t budge. He looked around and noticed that it was darker now, still red but the kind of colour that belonged to red wine, deep and rich. The booming was getting louder too, faster. Panic started to build, first in small ripples and then eventually into waves that crashed against his ribcage as he shook the handle again, the door rattling on its hinges that held it on empty air._

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

_He whirled around again, sword pointing wildly at things that weren’t there. Then he heard it; rushing sounds, rumbling, like a waterfall and the ground shook, the air smelling heavily of iron. The flood hit him one second before he realised what was happening. Thick dark water rose rapidly, almost covering his chest and he struggled against the tide; however in the fading light he could see that it wasn’t water; it was red and metallic and thick. It was blood. Nico screamed, drinking in the blood and coughing it back up again as it surged around him. He weakly reached out his hand for the door, which was now floating upwards, out of reach. The booming was so loud, echoing in his ears as he continued to call out for someone to save him. If he managed to hang on, the blood would flow out again, just like a heart. But then Nico realised that this was Tartarus and it was designed to kill. He cried out one more time and then was submerged, the liquid reverberating with each boom, rattling his bones._

_He opened his mouth, inhaling the blood into his lungs and the BOOM, BOOM, BOOM and he was scared and he was drowning and he screamed-_

The banging on the door jolted Nico out of his reverie, sweating dripping down his face, mouth opened in partial scream, though whether he did or not, Nico didn't know. He sat stunned before the banging on the door spurred him into action. He pulled on pants and grabbed his sword. When he threw open the door, the face starring at him was not what he was expecting.

"Annabeth…what in the world-" The tears in her eyes stopped Nico short. Annabeth was crying. Nico grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly, his heart beating profusely, like he was still drowning. "Annabeth, what happened? Tell me now."

"P-Percy…" She wiped her tears; her eyes were scared but strong at the same time. "Help him Nico. He needs help."

"W-what's wrong with him?" Annabeth shook her head vigorously; grey eyes searching Nico's brown ones.

"He won't talk to me about, he hasn't been able to talk to me properly since we got back. You're the only other who has gone there, please Nico. You understand him somehow. He's going to hurt himself." Annabeth talked like she knew. His hands clenched and she just stood there, shaking her head like she couldn't understand anything anymore. That was ironic; the daughter of Athena couldn't think anymore. Nico wanted to laugh at his dry humour, but his gazed was focused towards Cabin Three. He looked at her and an understanding passed between them, conveyed through their eyes.

"Okay. I…okay."

Nico crossed the distance in long strides, his destination looming before him. At that moment he wished he could shadow travel right out of here. Right out of Camp Half-Blood and maybe even America, somewhere far away where no one could ever find him. But then Annabeth said Percy needed him. Not her but him. Perhaps that was why he kept moving his feet.

The door to Cabin Three was decorated with seashells, a ship's wheel as the door handle, placed right in the middle. Nico gulped, looking back only to find that Annabeth wasn't there anymore.

He opened it and prayed to whatever Gods that he wouldn't regret this


	3. denying a thirsty man of water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well someone should punch me because I'm a bad person. I apologise PROFUSELY for never updating this until now, like almost six months, a year? I don't remember. Seriously, what the heck am I doing? Like I can't even begin to apologise enough, because I literally didn't even have a reason. Well I was busy with school and life in general, but DEFINITELY not busy enough not to update! 
> 
> Well, anyway here we are now.
> 
> Just to let you know, I made some changes to the previous chapters. Nothing too major, I just changed the tense to past tense because I was confusing myself greatly. I also added in a bit of detail and fixed up stupid sentences that when I re-read made me cringe. You should probably re-read it but you don't have to!
> 
> Anyway, onwards! Sorry again, omg.

_Nico wasn’t proud of the way he treated Percy for the next month, and he won’t ever be. His thoughts and feelings had sat deep below his chest, heavy with turmoil and constantly threatening to rise like hot pockets of air that bursted with a foul sulphur of twisted emotions like anger, guilt and longing._

_Percy was the sea and Nico was the earth and when they mixed; they became sloppy mud. Nico thought it wouldn’t work; he didn’t believe it could work because that’s how life was for Nico since the moment he’d been born. Life’s inner workings never turned smoothly for him, like the Gods had purposely thrown a spanner into the works and it had jammed the grinding cogs. Although someone once told him –- surprisingly a girl with curly blonde hair and penetrating grey eyes –- that mud can become as hard as bricks, once it dries out if you give it a chance. That was Nico’s chance and it had unknowingly struck him in that place deep below his chest where it was dark and bitter, striking a light, a flame tiny though it was. Doubtful, hopeful, wishful -- he crushed those thoughts and they sprang again like stubborn weeds. Despite it all, Nico and Percy might come out of this okay._

_The next month was still the worst, and undeniably, the best moments of his life._

_But that was okay._

_He was okay._

/--/--/

Nico thought he knew how to define ‘tornado’ or ‘hurricane’. Cabin Three didn’t fit into either of those categories or in fact, any other category to begin with, because really, how could you classify a demigod's (of the Big Three no less) super powers...uh powers? Still the carnage shocked Nico.

The double bunk beds had all but been collapsed; the top bunk sinking into the lower and they were absent of mattresses -- Nico suspected the large lumps of springy stuff were the remains. The bedding had been strewn across the floor like a mummy had walked in and got his wrappings caught on something. The mirror that hung over the seashell basin made specifically for Iris messages had been shattered and its shards littered the floor like tiny stars; except they weren't beautiful, only sinister in portraying the carnage ten fold. As Nico stepped in, the ground sloshed with water and seaweed (where did that come from, _really?_ ) and all sorts of sea vegetation that had once filled vases instead of flowers. The walls leaked more liquid and piles of clothes made a circular pattern around a particular demigod who looked worse than his surroundings.

He was sitting cross legged like a monk but his face was scrunched up with pain, eyes darting frantically like a rabbit caught in a snare waiting for the hunting dogs to sniff it out. Eventually his gaze fell upon Nico and there was a glimpse of surprise before his shoulders slumped forward suddenly and Nico rushed to support Percy who was limp and shivering and soaked to the bone. That frightened Nico more than anything because Percy never got wet involuntarily. Slight tremors rocked his frame, which under Nico’s hands felt skinnier than usual. Nico as gently as possible, afraid that if he moved too suddenly Percy would shatter, half carried him to an arm chair, the only thing in the cabin that hadn't met with its destruction -- it felt like at that moment that it was a safe harbour, purposely left unharmed just so Nico could carry him there. Stupid, he knew. 

He eyed him down, taking in his appearance and looking for any physical wounds, unlike the ones Nico knew had already afflicted and maimed Percy's heart. When he appeared to be satisfied with his inspection, Nico fell silent.

Because really, what could he say?

Are you okay does not suffice because Percy wasn't okay and he probably wouldn't be for a long time. Nico knew that better than anyone. He might seem okay, he functioned and talked and laughed and smiled but deep down, his heart carried those scars and they were tender to touch, healed but still erupted with pain every once in a while and time wouldn't heal them --Nico didn't know what would. 

So he asked Percy if he wants to talk, because that's the next best thing, the  _only_ thing he could do.

The demigod mumbled slightly, shook his head and then sighed with a reply of, "Why are you here Nico?" Well it's not like he was trying to help or anything.

"Annabeth asked me to -- why are  _you_ here?" He fired back, and that's it, isn't it? Why was Percy here and not down there and dead, because in theory he should have never made it back from Tartarus. Nico barely did and then he almost died anyway.

Percy flinched as if the question had been a punch and seemed to wilt in his chair. Nico bowed his head in shame and apologised.

"No…it's okay, whatever man," Percy tried bravado but it didn't suit him. "I just, ah, I don't know Nico. I really don't know." 

"Me neither, I don't know anything, it's okay." Nico said quietly.

Percy doesn't reply and they stay in amiable silence, not talking because talking hurts and they knew it, knew it like nothing they've ever known before. It's what they have in common, what they share with each other and confide in, because ironically Nico didn't feel alone and he knew that he was cruel; he felt okay because Percy wasn't but try telling that to his beating heart.

It felt like hours -- and maybe it had been -- before Percy finally spoke up, his facing showing a little colour and his voice didn't waver as much when he spoke.

"I can talk to you, can't I Nico? About ... that place." He struggled a bit. "I did something I'm not proud of and it _scares_ me. But I don't know what to do and every time I think about it, my whole body shakes and my powers go wild and-" He took a deep breath, rubbing at his eyes and trying to hide the tears.

"I just want to talk to someone. Will you listen to me?"

And the thing was, Nico would. Nico would always listen to Percy. How many times had he dropped everything for this boy? Countless of times.

"Yeah, of course."

So he listened and felt like crying.

/--/--/

It was dawn by the time Percy had finally finished and had crashed back into a deep sleep. Nico was standing outside the cabin, watching the sun break slowly over the horizon and with it he got a sense of déjà vu, knowing that this scene was only similar to yesterday. Yesterday was so long ago; the campfire, the singing and the way Nico’s heart felt when Percy kissed Annabeth. All of it had been forgotten in those early hours of the morning when Nico felt like he was the only thing that mattered to Percy. And it felt like bliss.

There was guilt of course, there was always guilt when it came to Percy. He belonged to Annabeth and Nico wasn’t bad; he knew what they meant to each other. But the delightful glee that bubbled in his chest couldn’t be contained and denying Nico the pleasure would be denying a thirsty man of water. And Nico was parched.

He cracked a few joints and slowly ambled his way to the Mess Hall, feeling surprisingly hungry for once. When he walked in, there was a rise in chatter and people glanced at him as if he had some secret that everyone had suddenly found out. His stomach flipped slightly before he realised there was a head of blonde curls sitting at Hades’ table, waiting patiently for him despite the clamour she was making.

“You're going to get into trouble.” Nico said, doing a double take as he took in Annabeth's appearance. “Gods, you look like the dead.”

“How is he?” She ignored him completely.

"Awful, I guess. He didn't say too much." But he said enough.

"I see...he didn't tell me anything." Annabeth said quietly. "We haven't talked by ourselves since...well since the war ended, that's how much Tartarus has shaken him. He won't show it though but it affects him." There's obvious distress in her voice as she swirled her cereal listlessly.

"Did you try and talk to him about it, like actually address the problem?" Nico asked.

"Of course I did, didn't you just hear me?" She hissed followed by an apologetic look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

He shrugged, not really phased by her out burst. It was understandable and he felt sort of bad for trying to give advice to a relationship he didn't even understand. It was pathetic, really; his desperate inclinations to butt his nose in wherever it didn't belong. He couldn't help it though because Percy _was_ his business; he was the only thing that he believed gave him character and a purpose. Again, pretty pathetic. 

He sat down, asking for a bowl of fruit, which magically appeared on his plate, and dug in; the sweetness of the juices dribbling down his chin like a messy child. Nico was aware of the drumming of fingers on the hard wood surface but he would eat first and then talk. He savoured each mouthful like he hadn't eaten for a very long time. Eventually Annabeth got tired of waiting and stood up, her face giving that 'well? are you going to say anything?' look. Nico inwardly sighed before swallowing the last bite and looked up at her. "Surviving Tartaros isn't that simple and you should know that better than anyone. The only thing I can say is to just wait. He'll come around Annabeth; he's strong." His heart twisted painfully, why was he helping her? He thought.  

She stared at him with her grey eyes that seemed to be calculating something. "I guess you're right." She agreed, more to herself than Nico. "Well...I'm going to help Chiron with archery practice. Keep me updated if anything changes..."

Nico watched as she walked away and found that the gazes of everyone had turned back to their own tables. Now that the drama seemed to have abated, everyone was back to minding their own business. It was good though; he couldn't have everyone knowing that Percy was having frequent meltdowns. He had to let Percy sort it out himself without everyone looking at him every three seconds (not like they didn't anyways).

/--/--/

After daily practice, which had left him exhausted and bruised in places he didn't even know could bruise, aka the underside of his big toe; Nico cleaned himself up and headed back to the Mess Hall, expecting that after a few hours, Percy must've been awake by now. He was right because the other sat at Poseidon's table eating a mixture of blue waffles and ice cream, a heavy combination after waking up. Nico glanced around quickly, making sure no one was there to give him funny looks and when he found it thankfully empty, dropped himself next to Percy. Chiron was going to have a fit with the amount of rule breaking of sitting at other people's tables. Suspiciously, the son of Hades eyed the waffles with distaste; his stomach gurgling at the thought of eating it. 

"Seriously Percy? How do you not throw up after training has got me clueless." Nico said amazed.

Percy looked up with his cheeks stuffed full of ice cream. "How do yur nof wit tha mount yo eat?*" Surprisingly, Percy didn't look too bad, except for the food bursting out of his mouth. Nico thought it was cute and then squashed that thought underfoot.

"Oh shut up and chew your food properly."

When Percy was done, they got up and walked through the camp, not minding in particular where they went. Percy patted his stomach appreciatively and belched, earning him a very disgusted look.

"Oh yeah right, back in your day men were like gentlemen, weren't they?"

"Not  _like_ gentlemen, they  _were_  gentlemen. Unlike this uncultured swine I'm walking next too."

"Haha woah! Hit me where it hurts the most!" Percy patted his stomach again for emphasis. "You can't run on an empty engine Nico, a growing boy has gotta have his fuel."

Nico grumbled, watching out of the corner of his eye at Percy's smile. He seemed okay now but Nico wasn't sure whether he should say something or not. It was confusing. One moment Percy was wrecked and the next he was laughing. Nico could see why he was the son of Poseidon; his moods changed like the sea. 

"Unlike you," Percy started again, "you're like a hybrid machine or something, like a Toyota Prius, don't need much to keep you going." Nico gave him the weirdest look.

"Are you seriously using car analogies to describe our intake of food and energy levels? Maybe you should talk to Leo." Percy laughed, elbowing Nico in the ribs, but he dodged and shook his head at him. He'll admit, this was sort of funny and Nico was glad that Percy was being light hearted, even if it was only for a moment. Seeing him any other way was too painful.

They continued to walk, following the river and watching the satyrs play their reed pipes while the naiads in the water waved and ooh'd Percy, calling him to come and play. He waved them off, smiling slightly. The path eventually took them to the beach, where they plopped down in the sand and watched the waves roll in, the sun vertical in the sky and making the sand warm. A breeze lightly brushed over their faces and the son of Hades could smell the sea, unsure if it was coming from the water or the boy sitting next to him. Nico was curious. Percy obviously led him here to talk, like he asked Nico to, but he was obviously delaying. It was probably because talking about it had already taken so much energy from Percy last night. Nico knew what it was like, thinking about that place, constantly plagued by it and never receiving relief from the images, not even in sleep. It constantly drained his emotions. So he knew how Percy felt.

"You'd think that as a hero who saved the world twice, aka defeating Kronos and then Gaia, that something like Tartarus would be insignificant to me."

Nico kept his eyes on the sea as it churned. "Percy, Tartarus is an ancient evil, as old as Mother Earth and it's been brewing darkness and chaos down there for millennia. Going down there isn't insignificant and coming back alive defies the laws of heaven or something, seriously."

"Well then you must definitely defy the laws of the universe because you did it by yourself and you're still okay." Percy mumbled.

Nico looked at him ludicrously, anger welling up inside. Okay? He was okay? He hadn't been okay since his mother had died, since Bianca had died. "You're joking right? You think I'm okay, like it didn't even affect me? Are you blind Percy or are you just plain ignorant?"

Shock was written on Percy's face and he bowed his head in shame. "I'm sorry Nico. I didn't mean to say something like that, of course it was hard for you, it was probably worse because you  _were_ by yourself. I'm sorry." In response, Nico scuffed the sand with his boot and sighed. 

"No, it's alright. I'm sorry for getting angry. You wanted to talk and I said I'd listen, so I'll listen."

The son of Poseidon gave him a weak smile before gazing out to the sea again like he was hoping it would calm him. He could hear dolphins in the distance, could smell the brine and seaweed on the breeze and the microorganisms in the sand under his fingers. The roar of the ocean was in his ears and he could feel the tide, as if the ocean was breathing like some giant creature. Percy shivered.

"H...how did you feel when you came back? I mean after the war ended. Did you...did you notice anything different about yourself?" He said quietly, afraid of speaking too loud against the thundering of the sea.

Nico gave him a careful look. "Well it depends what you mean. I was scared and sick, you saw how thin I was. I couldn't eat because of the pomegranates, I had nightmares every night..." He paused. "Sometimes I felt like I had lost myself. There were times I would be shaking so much I thought the whole room was too. In fact it probably was, because you know, I have earth powers too and all." 

"Yeah, that's it." Percy nodded slowly. Nico was confused more than ever. He tried to remember the things Percy told him only this morning, that he was afraid of what he'd done, that he couldn't control himself and was beginning to lose who he was. He thought of Annabeth and her tear streaked face as she told Nico that she didn't know what to do anymore and that Percy would hurt himself. 

"What's happening with you and Annabeth?" Nico asked suddenly.

Percy's neck snapped up, eyes surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Last night she came to me begging for my help. That's why I went and saw you."

"Oh...well I guess this does involve Annabeth. When we were in Tartarus, we were getting close to the Doors of Death but we didn't know how to get close without being caught so Bob took us to the House of Night where we met...Akhyls." Nico inhaled sharply. "She tried to kill us and...in retaliation I did something with my powers." Percy fidgeted, twirling his hands in the sand as a distraction.

"Your...powers?"

"I didn't know I could do something like that. I-it was...amazing, the way my power surged through me, heavy in my gut and I...choked Akhyls on her own poison." He paused. "I would have killed her, but Annabeth stopped me. You should have seen her face, it was like _I_ was the monster."

Nico suddenly understood why Percy went out of control last night. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

"To this level? No, not like this. I mean there was that one time I shook Mount Etna and basically released Typhon but there hasn't been a time when my powers felt so...primal."

"Yeah well it's extremely rare. It happened to me once when Bianca died; it's an ancient power and usually it never gets unlocked unless under extremely stressful situations but it puts a lot of strain on the body." 

Percy frowned, grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it in the air while it blew away in the wind. He turned to Nico. "Strain as in losing control of my powers?"

"I guess? There isn't exactly a record of this ever happening. Legends and myths, but no evidence."

Percy took note of that and his face crinkled under concentration. "Is there a way I can fix it? You obviously managed to get it under control."

"There wasn't anything I did in particular...I don't know if-" The son of Hades paused for a moment, trying to remember how he had managed to control his emotions, but that was easier said than done. Nico had been a mess after Bianca's death, trying to kill Percy, summoning Minos, and then trying to get Bianca back; there wasn't a moment where Nico was in control. Only that one time -- and Nico looked upon it with fondness -- when Percy invited Nico into his apartment and they shared blue birthday cake with his mom while they sang Percy happy birthday had been the best memory of his life. From there, any time Nico felt lost, he remembered every moment with Percy, the good and the bad and it seemed to keep him grounded.

His eyes lit up. "I have an idea...it might seem crazy but it could work."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *How do you not with the amount you eat?
> 
> I didn't really know where I should end it so I thought there was good. I'll TRY and update, I mean I'm almost on summer holiday (in Australia here, embrace the heat and it's like Hell) but no promises, ever. T_T


End file.
